


urgent as airmail, animal red

by seinmit



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Not Giving a Fuck, Weaponized Femininity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 04:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20168389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/pseuds/seinmit
Summary: Buffy Summers wears a lot of makeup.





	urgent as airmail, animal red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRaven/gifts).

> Thank you so much for the inspiring song! This is inspired by ["Invincible" by OK Go.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mItuZ8i4wH8)
> 
> Title is from the poem [Wild Poppies by Marion McCready](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/56701/wild-poppies)

The wand was crusty and black scattered out on her hand when Buffy pulled it out of the tube. She carefully brushed the flakes into the sinks; she didn’t want to stain this blouse. 

“Ugh,” she said, mournful. “I’m totally doomed.”

Willow was leaning against the sink. 

“Mascara expires after three months. You’re going to get eye mites.” 

“That’s shudderworthy,” Buffy said. “But I need both lengthened and thickened lashes and this tube is the last one.”

“The literal apocalypse needs averting, Buff.” 

“Cuteness apocalypse is just as bad,” she said and stuck the eye-mitey tube back in her purse.

* * *

“One sec,” Buffy said. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Buffy—“ Giles sighed. He took off his glasses. “Jalgoruk demons smell precisely like rotten salmon and explode into slime. You don’t need to fix your makeup.” 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said, in a sing-song tone and dropped the books she was carrying on the table. They made a satisfyingly loud noise. 

“Buffy.” 

“Tell you what,” she said. “Next time we go to a meeting to eat crumpets and daydream about the Crown Jewels, you can pick the tweed. When we’re fighting demons, I’m going to choose my lipgloss.”

* * *

“You look great,” Angel said. He sounded unsure. 

It made Buffy smile. 

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m trying something new.” 

“Yeah? Normally you don’t really wear makeup.” 

She tried to hide how she was laughing at him by turning her whole attention to the mirror. 

“Sure,” she said.

The eyeshadow really was amazing—vivid, neon green. It had been hard to find the color on short notice, but definitely worth it. Dad was coming into town for reasons entirely unrelated to Buffy, but he had asked if she wanted coffee. 

She pecked Angel on the cheek and went on her way.

* * *

There was one time Dawn cried for two hours to Buffy because some boys were making fun of her face. 

“My nose is too big,” she said. 

“Stop that,” Buffy said. “Those jerks don’t matter.” 

“I’m _upset_” Dawn said. She was still sniffling, but yelled anyway.

“You’re _angry,_” Buffy said. “You’re just pretending you’re sad.”

“They hurt my feelings,” Dawn said. 

“Who cares?” Buffy said. “It’s your face. If they don’t like looking at it, neat, that’s another way to make ‘em mad.” 

Buffy threw her arm over Dawn’s shoulders. 

“Come on,” she said. “My favorite spite lipstick is Revlon.”

* * *

“You have to understand,” she overheard Giles saying. “Buffy is a strong girl and a fierce fighter. She just has a very particular way of engaging in the world.”

Buffy hesitated at the door to listen. Giles kept trying to give Wesley instructions, like petsitting instructions pinned on the fridge.

“Her lipstick and mascara, that’s part of her armor.”

She took that moment to sail in. 

“I don’t wear armor,” she said. “The best defense is a good offense.” 

They stared at her.

She smiled, slung a scimitar over her shoulder and left them both in the room behind her.


End file.
